I have been having further trouble with my neighbour, Petherton, whose
place adjoins mine, being divided from it by a hedge. Beyond the hedge
lies Petherton's small paddock, where his poultry amuse themselves, and,
beyond that, Petherton's house and garden.
But, however good a fence may be, it will not keep out, or keep in,
smells. Therefore when Petherton engaged in apparently chemical
operations giving off the most noxious gases I was rapidly forced to the
conclusion that he ought to have a different kind of boundary between
his property and mine, and also that the air of our neighbourhood no
longer rivalled that of Bexhill, especially when the wind blew from the
south-east.
Wishing to remedy this state of affairs without recourse to unpleasant
measures, I sat down to write to Petherton.
Dear Petherton,--These continual south-easterly winds portend
rain, I fear, and so I hope you have wrapped your parsnips up to
protect them from the probable excess of moisture which is so
injurious to all such plants.
My primary object in writing is not so much anxiety about the
health of your vegetables, but to ask whether you have noticed a
most unpleasant odour which seems to be heading north-west; at
any rate it is more unpleasant if possible when the wind is from
the south-east than at any other time.
It does not appear likely that the smell should have come from
the German lines, so we must look nearer home for the cause of
the trouble. Don't you think we ought to take joint action to
get the nuisance ended?
Yours, H. J. Fordyce.
Petherton's reply was a bulky packet which, being opened, revealed a tin
of dog soap. I could only infer that he wished to saddle Togo, our
prize-bred Airedale, with the blame. Coward!